Thursday, May 14, 2015

Here is the World

Perhaps like other families, we have a library visit routine.  We return our books by the front door as we walk in, then we head towards the back of the library where the children's section is located.  Frances likes to look for book on the library catalog, and then we all browse the picture book and children's fiction shelves.  After that the kids sometimes play on the computers or at the train table before we check out.  But our visits often lack trips to one section in particular, and it makes me a little sad.  We rarely visit the nonfiction section.  At our library, the adult and children's nonfiction is interfiled.  There are pluses and minuses to this arrangement - as a librarian, I often recommended that adults researching a subject start with children's books.  Sometimes that was enough information on a subject without seeming too overwhelming.  Other times a children's nonfiction book provided sources for research for the adult reader, just as I often point out to young readers.  So having the adult and children's nonfiction interfiled is useful to provide a broad range of reading material on a topic.  On the other hand, that means that the collection isn't as browsable for young children or parents.  Our nonfiction collection is in a different part of the building. and it's difficult to go over and spend time looking at a particular section.  Either I've left Frances and Gloria in the children's section by themselves and run over to find something specific, or I bring them with me into the nonfiction section.  They might find one or two books they want (on the last trip, Gloria found books on making jewelry and papercrafting), but then the sheer number of books on the shelves becomes overwhelming and they lost interest.

Luckily for me and my voracious interest in children's nonfiction, there is a small display of new children's nonfiction in a corner of the children's section.  It usually has about ten titles on it, and I always check out what's available when we are there.  A few weeks ago I was lucky to find Here is the World: A Year of Jewish Holidays on that shelf.

Here is the World is a luminous picture book, giving short rhymes to describe the Jewish holidays during the year.  Newman starts with the celebrations that happen at any time of year, like Shabbat and naming ceremonies for new baby girls.  Then she begins at the start of the Jewish year, which happens with Rosh Hashanah in the fall.  Each season is introduced with a rhyming couplet and a two page spread.  Then holidays within that season are shown chronologically.  It helps readers who may not be Jewish connect the holidays visually with the season.  Many of the holidays are also tied to the season they are celebrated in.  For instance, on the page explaining Sukkot (which is a fall holiday), the text reads "Here is the sukkah, its roof made of twigs./ Here are some grapes, pomegranates, and figs."  A young reader may not pay attention to the fact that all of the fruits listed are harvested in the fall, but they will see pumpkins and sunflowers scattered around the sukkah too, reinforcing the fall theme.

The same thing happens in the spring, with the holiday of Tu B'Shevat.  The poem reads "Here is some dirt and some seeds to be sown./ Here are some trees that are already grown."  The reader can see trees scattered throughout the illustration, all fully in bloom, as well as see children planting. This connects the holiday immediately to spring, even if a reader doesn't understand the Hebrew name of the holiday.  This is a very effective and simple way to bring the holidays to life for readers, as well as root them in the everyday.

I was impressed with the fluidity of the text.  Newman does a masterful job of creating easy to read rhymes that are catchy yet simple.  I've mentioned before that there are only two lines of text to convey a feeling of the holiday.  It's no easy feat particularly as there is so much symbolism to convey.  There are also Hebrew words used throughout the text, bu it's done so that you can't really accidentally mispronounce them.  Even though words are there without a contextual pronunciation guide, the Hebrew words often rhyme with other words, giving an insecure reader a leg up on how that word is said.

And this book wouldn't be as successful without the amazing illustrations.  The illustrations help readers with clues to the celebration. At Purim, the text reads "Here's a parade - come and march with the crowd! Here is a grogger to shake nice and loud."  You might not know what Purim is, but you can see that the participants are in costume, and three of the four people featured are shaking the groggers.  If you aren't sure what a grogger is, you could recognize it from the illustration.  The picture exudes fun and noise.  There is confetti, strewn about and noisemakers galore.  You feel like you are there, celebrating.  At Passover, the text describes a Haggadah laid at each setting.  Again, the word may be unfamiliar, but you can identify the little boy placing the Haggadah.  Even if you know nothing of the Haggadah's purpose or meaning, you can see its size and shape there.

Another thing that I adore about the illustrations are their connection to family.  The same family is shown throughout the book, always celebrating together.  The family is young, with children.  Each family member wears the same pattern throughout the book, helping to keep them identifiable (an especially genius idea, since the celebrations often involve other people).  They are always smiling, hugging, helping each other - it is clear that they are enjoying their time together.  One of my favorite illustrations takes place at the end of the book.  The family is lighting a paper lantern together.  Their faces are lit with joy, awe, contentment and wonder.  Gal makes you feel like you are eavesdropping on a wonderful moment - one of those times that will become a cherished memory.

And finally, I can't move on without celebrating the exemplary back matter in this title.  There are paragraphs detailing additional information about the Jewish customs and holidays highlighted in the text.  Some of the Hebrew words are defined, some of the symbols explained.  Again, these are done in an easy to read manner, so readers can stop ad refer to them during a reading session without too much interruption.  But my favorite is the final piece of back matter - a section of holiday crafts and recipes! The crafts are all easy for children to perform with little assistance and the recipes also indicate when an adult should help.  It's a terrific supplement to the book's text.  And it all comes together in a glorious book that will interest any reader.

Here is the World: A Year of Jewish Holidays.  By Lesléa Newman; illustrated by Susan Gal.  Abrams Books for Young Readers, 2014.

borrowed from the Lewis & Clark Library

Monday, May 4, 2015

Brimsby's Hats

Most times, when I fall in love with a book, I first fall in love with the text.  It's not that I don't love illustrations, but it is always the text that draws me in.  Then, I can see how the illustrations complement or add to the text, and love the illustrations too.  But with Brimsby's Hats, I had the total opposite experience.  I also have mostly thought enough about the text and illustrations by the time I start writing that I have my own theories about the pieces I've wondered about.  I fell in love first with the illustrations and then later realized all of the spaces where I could be curious about the text.  And I didn't need to have all the answers this time.  I'll just give you all my questions.


The story begins with two friends - a hat maker and his friend, who would sit with the hat maker while he worked.  The hat maker's friend would make them the most perfect tea and they would tell stories while the hat maker created.  But then the hat maker's friend announces that he is leaving to follow his own dream to become a sea captain.  After they say goodbye, the hat maker's quiet life becomes very lonely.  Finally he realizes he must find a new friend.  He discovers a tree full of birds that look promising, but the birds are too busy shoveling snow out of their nests and keeping their fires lit to engage with the hat maker.  Brimsby comes up with a solution that involves his talents, and it ultimately gains him a larger community of friends.
One of the things I find most powerful is the tension between the quiet, simple text and the highly detailed illustrations.  For example, there is a brief line of text about the hat maker and his friend.  While the hat maker works the text reads "Together they would have the most wonderful conversations."  Most of us could imagine the dialogue between friends, what is said and perhaps unsaid.  But Prahin shows the hat maker and his badger best friend at the table, talking.  Above their heads are multiple balloons, showing the many things they talk about, the things they imagine together.  The two friends are royalty, pirates, slay a dragon, defeat a pirate octopus and fly away on a golden bird.  Each "story" is no bigger than a quarter, yet it contains an exciting narrative for the two friends.  It is interesting because although the pair's described activities are quiet and deliberate (sitting at a table, creating hats and sipping tea), their imagined activities are full of daring and valor.  But in both sets of activities, they are a pair.  In this book, the text takes a back seat to the vivid illustrations.
It isn't that the text isn't great, it's just that the illustrations give life to the words in this book.  When the hat maker sends hats to his customers, the illustrations show the customers trying on the hats he created.  My favorite is a buffalo, with his oversized torso tucked into a western-style shirt and perched on the tiniest chair.  He is holding up a hand mirror in which it is apparent that he cannot see the new bowler perched on his head.  He is trying hard, however, to admire it.  It is funny and charming all at once.
Another thing I love about this book is Prahin's choice of colors.  In the beginning of the book, there are bright, lively colors splashed on the pages.  The hats the hat maker creates are depicted in traditional hat colors - grays, browns and blacks, but with colorful trim.  And there is color all over his house and studio.  But when his best friend leaves to become a sea captain, things become sadder, lonelier, and more gray.  The gray palette continues until the hat maker takes a chance and tries to make friends.  The colors then become celebratory and bright again.
I said at the beginning of my blog that I had some things I was wondering about in the text.  One of those things is the title.  In case you missed it, the title is Brimsby's Hats.  But only once in the text is the hat maker referred to as Brimsby.  Mostly he is called the hat maker.  Only the third sentence of the story includes his name: "Brimsby would make the most wonderful hats and his friend would make the most wonderful tea."  I'm not sure why he is primarily described by his occupation, except, of course, it isn't just his occupation.  It's a talent and a gift.  He uses his gift to help the birds survive the winter snow, and his gift earns him more friends.
One of the other things that struck me about this book was the friendship between the hat maker and his friend (who is also unnamed).Their friendship is a cozy routine of tea and talk.  The text tells us that their friendship went on in the same manner "for many years" until the friend tells the hat maker that he is leaving to become a sea captain.  I was amazed at how brave this leavetaking was for both of them.  They have been bound together as a pair, partners in their adventures day in and day out.  Yet it takes bravery for the sea captain to take the risk and try a new adventure.  And it also takes bravery for the hat maker to gracefully say goodbye.  They are true friends, and their friendship can expand to include others as time goes on.  The last sentence is one of perfect completion: "And the large group of friends would drink tea and talk about hats and shovels and ships and how wonderful it was that they had all been lucky enough to meet one another."
Brimsby's Hats. Andrew Prahin.  Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2014.
borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Cast Away on the Letter A

In getting ready to review a new season of TOON Books, I realized that I still had a couple from the fall that I hadn't reviewed yet.  And in the case of Cast Away on the Letter A, there will be a new book in the series coming out this spring.  So I wanted to make sure I took the opportunity to introduce you to Philemon now, so you'll know who he is when I talk about him again.

Just the title Cast Away on the Letter A evokes nonsense, mystery and quirkiness.  How, exactly, can you be cast away on the letter A?  What does that even mean?  Well for Philemon, it all begins with a trip to the well.  His father tries to pump water at their spigot, but nothing comes out, so he sends Philemon to the well for water.  When Philemon gets there, he is surprised by a message in a bottle that he hauls up in his bucket of water.  It simply says "Help!"  He can't imagine how it could have gotten in the well, but dismisses it as a prank.  Until more bottles appear immediately in the same well.  Philemon is dying to figure out how the bottles are arriving.  So he shimmies down the rope to get a closer look.  While Philemon's donkey, Anatole, mutters dry comments such as "Curiosity killed the cat, Phil." (p. 15), Philemon slips into the well and is pulled under the water.  As he is gasping for breath, a tide pulls him down deeper and deeper.  One of the next indications that things aren't what they seem happens as a shark swims past bewildered Philemon.

Now Philemon is really in trouble.  He wakes up on a beach as things continue to get weird.  After he wonders what time it is, a clock emerges out of the sand.  Just as rapidly, it explodes.  He believes Anatole has come through the well also - he sees a pair of hind legs - but they turn out to belong to a centaur.  The centaur mentions in passing that they are on an island, which really confuses Philemon.  Philemon runs after the centaur, trips and falls into another hole.  This hole has a little man in it, dressed all in green.

The man introduces himself as Bartholomew, the well digger.  He tells Philemon he's been digging wells for forty years.  Bartholomew was digging a well all that time ago, was sucked into a whirlpool, and never escaped.  He's been digging wells on the island ever since, sending messages in the bottles, hoping he can reverse the effect and get back to his life.  Oh yes, and he explains that they are stranded on the letter A...  Philemon thinks "What's he talking about?  He's off his rocker!  Too many years living alone, no doubt..." (p. 23).  As usual, I don't want to give away too much of the plot in my post.  But this is also such an intriguing book that I don't want to give away too many of the surprises.

TOON Books has translated and reprinted Cast Away on the Letter A from its original French.  Francoise Mouly, who is one of the publishers of TOON Books (but also Art Editor of The New Yorker), recalls "As a teenager growing up in Paris in the late sixties..." (p. 44), she would read the serialized versions of Philemon's adventures.  This story was originally published in 1972, and I was pleasantly surprised at how timeless these adventures feel.  The art has a slightly retro feel to them, but readers can interpret that retro quality as occurring because of Philemon's trip down the well.  That island where he lands feels very much out of time.  As the story unfolds, it is so odd and unbelievable that the reader doesn't expect anything modern anyway.  And the language is plain, so without any dated frills or vocabulary.  It works very well.

Just from the little I've mentioned of the plot, it should feel very fantastic as well.  When Philemon awakes on the beach after his trip through the well, he exclaims "That's impossible! A beach inside a well? But I'm not dreaming.  It's real sand." (p. 18)  He is already having a hard time distinguishing reality from the bizarre world around him.  And who could blame poor Philemon?  He sees a clock grow out of the sand, then explode.  He meets a centaur and a man who has been digging ditches for 40 years.  The influence of fantasy on this story is heavy.  When Philemon begins to hear Bartholomew's story, he says "Then you're the well digger in the legend?'  Philemon goes on to explain "Well, in my village, they tell the story of a well digger who never came back up from the well he was digging forty years ago." (p. 22).  So Bartholomew has become a legend through his disappearance.  And the island is also a place of legend and mythology.  There are also many mysterious elements here, including a bottle tree.  Bartholomew harvests bottles off the tree for the messages in the bottles he sends. 

This title comes from TOON Books' series called "TOON Graphics for Visual Readers".  This is a newer series, which was first issued in Fall 2014.  (I reviewed Theseus and the Minotaur here) and it is designed for a slightly older audience.  I found a Teacher's Guide to Cast Away on the Letter A on the TOON Books website, and it is as thoughtfully produced as everything they do.  The Teacher's Guide ties the book to the Common Core standards, and includes questions that help readers interpret the many layers of the story and the art.  One of the things that I found most thought-provoking about the Teacher's Guide was an explanation about how the story had been originally serialized.  The Guide challenges readers to find the cliff-hangers in the story, where the story would have stopped temporarily until the next issue. 

And, as always, TOON Books does an impeccable job with the back matter.  Inside the back cover is a list of tips for parents, teachers, and librarians.  One of the items noted there is that "Reading TOON Graphics is a pleasure for all.  Beginners and seasoned readers alike will sharpen both their literal and inferential reading skills."  That is so true of this book.  I may have recognized some of the ideas mentioned here, but there is an amazing compendium of elements on pages 44-45 for readers to engage with.  There is a small graphic to help readers tie the element back to a specific place in the story.  There are also page numbers for the citation, and information from other myths and legends that may have influenced the author.  This is incredibly useful for readers and teachers alike.  In her preface to this section, Mouly notes "I knew that in that first slow, careful reading, and every re-reading after that, I would be rewarded with a wealth of hidden treasures."  (p. 44)  Honestly, even with my initial reading (and multiple re-readings to write this post), there are most likely many layers and themes to this story that I've missed.  I'm grateful for the extra help in the back matter.

Philemon's adventure is created of fantasy with a kernel of truth in it.  And I haven't done justice to the book's sense of humor -that will have to be saved for another post.  Philemon is quirky, clumsy, disbelieving, but a lot of fun.  I am looking forward to reviewing another of Philemon's adventures this spring - catch up while you still can!

Cast Away on the Letter A: A Philemon Adventure.  Fred.  TOON Graphics, 2014.

sent by the publisher for review

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Dreaming Up

I found a note in a pile of stuff not that long ago, reminding me to blog about this book.  It was more than likely due at the library, so I returned it and then went on to read other stuff and then promptly forgot it.  That's what happens, right? There are so many good books to read and write about, and I look up and two years have gone by!  But I found that note and checked Dreaming Up: A Celebration of Building out again.  I am happy to say that this unusual, creative book has been possibly even more popular with Frances and Gloria this time around.  Dreaming Up is a book with so many applications - I am happy to share it with you!

Christy Hale had the clever idea of taking three seemingly disparate elements and connecting them on the page.  On the left hand side of each spread is a picture of a child building something - toddlers stacking cups, a boy building a house of cards, children bundled up while playing in an igloo.  On the opposite page is a photograph of a real house or building that has something in common with the child's creative play.  In the example of the children playing in the igloo, the photo across from them is of an astronaut in a space suit, walking around a domed shelter.  The picture is a little bit surprising.  It makes the reader question how the shelter and astronaut came to be there.  But a reader can also immediately identify similarities between the picture of the children and the space shelter.  Both are dome-shaped, with similarly-sized entrances.  And where the igloo has been created with snow in cool tones, the space shelter looks to be created in a sort of honeycomb pattern.  Circles echo in both sides of the page.  The children's fluffy snowsuits and boots also resemble the astronaut's spacesuit.
We'll come back later to the astronaut and the space shelter, but for now I want to focus on the last element on each two-page spread.  There is a piece of concrete poetry that ties the two illustrations together.  The poems are often shaped in unique ways, which helps to further engage the reader.  A poem connecting a sandcastle with La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona is shaped like drips of wet sand.  As a child, I lived in San Diego, and seeing the poem makes my fingers itch to dribble sand through their fingers.  But the poem doesn't just explain the child's activity.  Hale does an amazing job of helping the reader to see that link between the two.  Her poem, which reads in part "Towers twist high, sparkle with sea glass, treasures and shells." can equally apply to La Sagrada Familia, which we learn later in the book is covered in mosaic glass.
One of the many things that I pondered as a result of this book was the creativity that is shown both in the children's play  and the buildings that are highlighted.  The buildings that are shown are amazing works of art.  There are the concentric swirls of the Guggenheim museum, the stacked terraces of Fallingwater.  But there is also the draped look of the suspension roof at the Yoyogi National Stadium in Japan, which mimics the shape of a blanket tent hung over chairs.  What is glorious about all of these real-life examples are their inspirations - space, nature and our lifestyles.
But I was also amazed by the diverse ways that children build and use their imaginations every day.  We could all probably think of a few ways children build, and they are fairly traditional (stacking cups, blocks, legos).  But there are other ways that children construct, such as the blanket tent, sandcastles, and building with toothpicks.  While the book calls itself a celebration of building, it is just as much a celebration of creativity.
This book can be used by so many types of readers, too.  I hate the perception that "picture books" should only be used with younger children, and this book fits my belief perfectly.  Of course, you could read this book with groups of young children (although I'm not sure that children much younger than Kindergarten would really be able to get it).  However, as children get older, it could be used as a model for creating concrete poetry.  It's definitely a higher order thinking challenge.  Primarily Hale draws strong connections between the illustrations with her poems so readers have similarities pointed out to them.  But expressing those connections in words or drawing the architectural elements would also be fun ways to work with this book.
And finally, one of the things I love most about this book is its amazing back matter.  Each building is reproduced in the back, along with a description of the materials it was created from, or the elements that make that building unique.  There is also a brief biography of the architect or builder, along with some of their guiding principles and a portrait.  And perhaps my favorite part of these biographies is a quote from the architect that perfectly fits the building in question.  For example, that space shelter is actually Mars One, in Hesperia, California.  It was created from sandbags, stacked in a dome shape (which is also alluded to in the poem), and held together with Velcro of all things!  The builder, Nader Khalili, believed that "the best substances for constructing shelters would be the materials under the astronauts' feet."  The quote is "'Everything we need to build is in us, and in the place.'"  To me, it encapsulates the building perfectly.  There is also an excellent page of sources for readers to research, both for photos and the quotations.  This book might seem simple, but the layers are satisfyingly complex.
Dreaming Up: A Celebration of Building. Christy Hale.  Lee & Low Books, 2012.
Borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library

Monday, March 16, 2015

Starry Night

I have been an Isabel Gillies fangirl for a long time.  When I was separating from my husband a few years ago, I discovered her memoir, Happens Every Day.  Even though the circumstances were very different, I took solace in her words.  Even though I knew I was doing the right thing, she too had felt that odd heartbreak and grief in saying goodbye to what she believed her life would be and greeting something very different.  She felt like the much cooler older sister that I never had, whose wisdom and pain I could learn from.  I reread Happens Every Day earlier this year, because I had just read her newer piece, A Year and Six Seconds.  I put them on hold at our library, and it was then that I discovered that she had just published a young adult novel.  I put that book on hold immediately, hoping I would love it just as much.

When it came in, I started it right away.  I quickly realized that I had another problem.  I couldn't stop reading it, yet didn't want it to end.  It has some of my favorite elements of young adult fiction in its pages - romance and school - along with fascinating characters, an amazing setting, and parents who are cool but also know how to set boundaries with their children.  It feels like a big, giddy whoosh of a book, but it also has the pinprick of real emotions.  I couldn't get enough!

The story centers on Wren Noorlander.  At 15, she seems to be sailing through life on the outside.  She has a very tight-knit group of friends - Vati, Reagan, Farah, and Charlie.  Wren is an amazing artist with a blossoming talent.  She is secure in her place at her private girls' school, knowing she has a great talent, but still having to work very hard in other subjects.  Wren has an older brother, Oliver, who is a senior in high school.  Despite the fact that he is getting older, and beginning to become slightly unknowable, he still has a strong relationship with Wren.  And their younger sister, Dinah, is a pre-teen with a cooking show on Food TV.  But all three siblings are also quite normal.  The next quote is a little out of context, but it illustrates Wren and Dinah perfectly: "...then the door at the top of the stairs flung open to reveal Dinah, still in her uniform, hand on her hip, head cocked to the side.  'You are going down!' she announced, not looking surprised at all that Nolan was standing there.  I glared at her. 'Is Mom home?' I whispered loudly as I trotted up. 'Oh yeah, she is, and she's on fire.  She had to start knitting because you are so late! It's a total ten.'" (p. 157)  This sample is so big sister-little sister that it still makes me laugh.

And then there are Wren's parents.  They have interesting jobs to start with - Wren's mom has a pottery studio, Wren's dad is the director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  No big deal, just the Metropolitan Museum of Art!  They are sophisticated, live in a large brownstone in New York City.  But here's what I love about the Noorlanders: they don't take all the opportunities they are afforded for granted.  They see all the amazing things they are lucky enough to give their children and they are clear about what those opportunities require of all of them.  Wren tells readers about how Dinah gets her own cooking show: "...Bravo called to say they were interested in having Dinah host a thirty minute cooking show.  Mom was repelled, but Dad, who is more relaxed about publicity and media and sort of everything, convinced Mom that it would only be good for Dinah.  I remember him saying at dinner, 'Nan, love, it's a wonderful life experience for her.  I don't see how we can stand in her way.'  My mother protested, 'I can stand directly in her way, David.  She is only NINE!'" (p. 27).  I read quite a bit of young adult fiction, and the parents are primarily absent, physically or emotionally.  Wren's parents may not know every single thing their children do, but they have a pretty good idea of what's happening in their lives.  I really like how connected Wren's parents are to Wren.  They may not always make the easiest or most popular choice for their children, and they are okay with it.  They are always there to supervise what's happening and support their children when they need it.  As a parent, I love their example.  It's a hard road to follow, but they put in the effort.

It's funny to me that I have gotten this far in my review without summarizing the plot.  One of Oliver's newer friends, Nolan, comes over to the Noorlander house after school one day.  Oliver, Nolan, Wren and her friends (Vati, Reagan, Farah and Charlie) have all been invited to their first Metropolitan Museum of Art opening.  It is a huge deal and the girls are besides themselves with excitement.  Then Wren meets Nolan, and things shift dramatically.  "' Who are you?'  Now this might sound weird, but Nolan's 'who are you?' did not come out was more like he was asking because he was enchanted with me, so that was wild - and nobody had ever asked me who I was  before, so I was way into it." (p. 88)  And she's off, muddling through her first love.  Wren and Nolan make some bad choices in their longing to be together, but those choices aren't totally terrible.  The night of the opening, Nolan talks Wren into ditching the party (and her parents) to go to a club and go dancing.  The consequences of that impetuous decision leaves Wren grounded and without a phone for weeks.  But it also leads to sweet scenes like this: "'Isn't it weird, how yesterday we didn't know each other, and now we are each other's person?' Nolan mused as he walked through the gates into Central Park." (p. 154).

One character I haven't yet mentioned in this post so far is the city of New York.  It is so interwoven into the story that it feels like another person.  After the above scene, Nolan and Wren stand under the echo bridge in Central Park and share their experiences of the bridge.  It bonds them - one of those initial moments in a relationship when everything seems to be identical in your lives up until you met.  But Nolan and Wren's relationship takes place in front of the city's backdrop: "We rode the 1 train up Broadway and he told me about his parents' divorce as the train rocked and screeched into station after station all the way to Eighty-Sixth Street." (p. 116)  "The air felt loaded in New York City.  It was one of those days that you feel not only that the temperature will drop but that something tremendous is going to happen.  It was a Monday in November and the sky was so blue it was violet, uninterrupted by clouds." (p. 4)  It's an amazing setting for me, living in a small(ish) Montana town with not a subway in sight.  For readers in most of the country, the teens' lives feel a little glamorous, full of a different sort of freedom that we ever taste as Wren and her friends casually move about the city.  For readers from New York City, I suspect it feels very accurate and real.

One of Gillies' strengths as a writer is her knack for the small details that make up our lives.  Wren describes her home like this: "There are Persian rugs running down the halls, and under those rugs the beaten-up floors are made from smooth, wide wooden planks.  Photographs and paintings hang on the walls from the floor to the ceiling, all mixed up." (p. 50)  Their home is eclectic yet cozy and you can feel its essence through Gillies' description.  Her writing is very concrete and real.

What I also love is how strong Wren's voice is throughout this novel.  Wren is often wrong about things, but she commits to a plan of action wholeheartedly. "I spent the next long time lost, feverishly drawing a barn owl rocketing into the night sky, shooting up, wings spread wide, soaring up up up and off the paper with one hundred of her feathers fluttering in the headwind.  If Oliver came upstairs, I didn't know it.  He might have come up and decided not to bother me.  I was somewhere far away." (p. 170-1)  Wren is full of giddy love, excitement, strongly held beliefs and emotions.  She is so endearing, and as the story unfolds, my heart broke for her in several different circumstances.

There is one other thing about Wren that I wanted to call attention to in this review.  In the beginning of the novel, while talking with her friends, Wren notes "I can never get names until at least ten minutes after I need them.  It's one strain of my other learning disorder: dysnomia.  I have that along with the dyslexia, dysgraphia, and a dollop of ADD." (p. 31).  Wren's learning disorders are definitely not the focus of this novel, but they are part of her too.  She has strategies to help her manage these: "...trying to zip up my backpack and go through the mental list that I am supposed to go through every time I leave the school so I don't space on anything." (p. 146).  Wren is matter of fact about the side effects of these - her impulsivity and her ability to focus on just one thing like her art are two sides of the same coin.  This story isn't about that struggle for Wren, but I like how it is presented here - as one small part of the whole.

I haven't even scratched the surface of the events of this novel, or the emotions contained within it.  But I'll encourage you to read this, to hear more about the Noorlander family and Wren's group of friends.  And I'll beg Isabel Gillies to keep writing about Wren and her friends, because I never want to leave their world.

Starry Night.  Isabel Gillies.  Farrar, Strauss & Giroux, 2014.

Borrowed from the Lewis & Clark library

Sunday, March 1, 2015

Bow-Wow's Nightmare Neighbors

This year Gloria started Kindergarten in the same school where Frances is now in second grade.  We were lucky to already have a great relationship with the school librarian (who is a reader of this blog, yay!), so she wasn't surprised to have another reader on her hands.  Now we check out piles of books out of our public library on a regular basis.  But there, the girls check out as many books as they want, so there is very little actual selection on their part.  They take home everything they might be interested in.  But at the school library, Frances can only select two books at a time, and Gloria's class only checks out one book at a time.  I'm always fascinated by what they choose to bring home on those visits.  Frances tends to choose chapter books.  A few weeks ago, she brought home My Friend Flicka because she loves the movie.  I'm not sure she ever opened it, though.  She also checked out Just Grace last week, and actually renewed it this week because she liked it so much.  But two weeks ago, Gloria checked out a book that we both instantly loved.  I wouldn't let her return it until I had blogged about it (although the librarian was nice enough to let Gloria check out another book while I kept this one an extra week!).

I also want to note that this book was also published by Roaring Brook Press, who published the book I featured last week, Viva Frida. These books are both very cool pieces of art, and I hope that the rest of their offerings are just as magical!  I'll be looking out for them.  So back to Bow-Wow's Nightmare Neighbors...

This isn't the first book about Bow-Wow.  Bow-Wow Bugs a Bug came out in 2007, and I only vaguely remember it.  But now, seven years later, here comes Bow-Wow again.  And he's not very happy.  Bow-Wow is rudely interrupted mid-nap by three perfectly white (ghostly) kittens.  They nip him on the tail, startling him.  Bow-Wow leaps straight up, and while he's in the air, the kittens steal his comfy teal bed.  They slip out the window, but Bow-Wow is in hot pursuit.  He races across the street, and enters an abandoned house.  It certainly looks spooky, built out of gray stone, with sharply pointed shrubbery surrounding.  There are many cracked and broken windows, but Bow-Wow knows it is the right place because two little white kitten faces peer out from upper windows.

The chase is on.  It involves secret passages, mysterious doors, and glimpses of white tails.  Also, sometimes he sees just a hint of the teal dog bed to spur him on.  Or so he thinks.  Everywhere he goes, kittens follow him.  They always manage to disappear as he turns corners.  The white kittens romp through rooms, just ahead of Bow-Wow, acting incredibly entertaining and very ghost-kitten-like.  Those white kittens prefer nipping Bow-Wow on the tail, over and over and over again.  Bow-Wow searches and searches for his beloved dog bed, surprising a burglar and scaring him off in the process.  It isn't until Bow-Wow opens the very last door that he comes across the reason those ghostly kittens needed his teal bed.  There is a whole floor full of rainbow-colored cushions, and Bow-Wow's teal dog bed completes it.  It's a surprising moment, but it's not the only one in this story - there is another moment when the determined Bow-Wow goes to take back his cushion.

What's funny about this blog post is that I told you much of the plot of this picture book just now.  But I've told you that without reading a single printed word.  Bow-Wow's Nightmare Neighbors is a perfect introduction to the graphic novel.  The pages are a combination of panels and full-page illustrations.  The action is very easy to follow.  There is a clear path that guides Bow-Wow from panel to panel throughout the house.  The kittens and Bow-Wow have likable, expressive faces so readers can tell exactly what they are thinking.  The book is expressly designed to convey lots of meaning without words.

There is a limited range of colors in the book.  Most pages only have five colors - gray, white for the kittens, a tan for Bow-Wow, and of course teal, used as an accent color and also for the infamous bed.  The usage of standard colors also helps young readers focus on the main action on the page, or in the panel.  The pictures still show movement, for instance, when the dog sees a mannequin wearing a teal dress.  Bow-Wow believes that the dress hides his teal dog bed.  He darts through the dress after two kittens who have popped out of the sleeves to taunt him.  You can almost hear the thud as Bow-Wow inevitably knocks over the mannequin.

The color palette also does something astonishing for me.  The colors are consistent from page to page, which frees your eye to see all of the details Newgarden and Cash have created.  A kitten hides himself between a wall and a piece of peeling wallpaper.  I especially love a series of drawings that starts with a ghostly kitten parading up the stairs with Bow-Wow's teal dog bed.  Bow-Wow follows behind him.  As Bow-Wow starts up the stairs in an upper right hand panel, another kitten jumps to bite him on the tail in a lower left hand panel.  And after all of them race up the staircase, more kittens peek out of each stair tread - beguiling, yet a little spooky too.

There is a definite gothic feel to the abandoned house across the street.  Bow-Wow (and hence the reader) never knows what to expect.  There's a cracked mirror, leaves blowing across the hallway through broken windows, a closet full of teal junk, cats running in mid-air.  It's surprising, yet not.  The quirky details even extend to the endpapers.  When you examine them closely, each of the fleur de lis in the wallpaper is made up of ghostly kittens.  It's all clever, and intriguing, fun and sweet.

This book rewards the careful reader.  Those details don't all show themselves on the first reading, or even the second reading.  It's why this book is a perfect introduction to panels in graphic novels, but an experienced reader will also laugh out loud at some of the fun scenes.  Bow-Wow's Nightmare Neighbors did a great job of surprising and delighting me.  We enjoyed every moment with this book.  Check it out if you're a graphic novel fan, a dog fan, a cat fan, a haunted house fan...or a fan of really cool books.

Bow-Wow's Nightmare Neighbors.  Mark Newgarden & Megan Montague Cash.  Roaring Brook Press, 2014.

borrowed from Helena School District library

Saturday, February 21, 2015

The Midnight Library

I know that I am among friends when I relay the following story.  When I was young, I entertained the idea of many other careers (dolphin trainer was one of my more creative ideas).  But there was really no question that being a librarian was a career near to my heart.  I vividly remember the closet I shared with my little sister.  There were bookshelves inside that I kept in order, along with my very own card catalog.  I wish I could remember now how I cataloged each book.  But I knew enough from my experience at our public library to add title, author and a summary to the card for each book.  It was a natural thing for me, to organize and check out my own books.

Once I went to library school, and then began working in public libraries, I discovered that one of my favorite things to do was readers advisory - matching readers and books.  I just loved working with children and hearing what they were interested in.  This sort of conversation as we walked over to the shelves might lead to a whole stack of books as I heard what they had read last, what they liked and didn't like to read, whether they like to read at all, and how long the book was required to be.  All these things would get mixed into my head and come out as title recommendations.  Even better would be the later conversations, when they tried something and liked it, or maybe didn't like it, and could articulate why.  That would lead to more books, more conversations, and on and on, in an incredibly fulfilling loop of relationship between children and books.  In many ways, that is what I continue to do with all of you, my readers.  But it doesn't always feel the same.


The little girl in The Midnight Library is of course a girl after my own heart.  Starting in the endpapers, her world is stocked with shelves of books, swaying under their weight.  The books are interspersed with lanterns, an occasional helper owl and a ladder.  It's the sort of place that makes you want to slip in and explore.  Even better, the title page shows the young librarian, with pigtails flying, welcoming a string of library patrons.  Those patrons happen to be animals, but you can sense their excitement from their smiles as they approach.

The story is fairly simple - this library is only open at night, and is staffed by the little girl librarian and the three owls, who dash and fly around at her beck and call.  Animals visit the library in droves, but are respectful of the library as a place to learn. But one night things go a little awry.  A band of squirrels begin to play music in the reading room, and needs to be escorted to an activity room.  Then a wolf begins to cry so much at the plot of her book that the wolf's tears fall like rain (hey, we've all been there!).  Finally, at closing time, a tortoise believes that he shouldn't leave the library until he's finished reading his book...and he only has 500 more pages! We all know how slow tortoises are!  What's a librarian to do?

While I don't agree that the library should always be a quiet place, there are many, many things I love about this book.  First and foremost, I love that she is a young librarian.  It shows us all that children are never too young to love and be advocates for books and reading.  There is always such joy and enthusiasm on the girl's face as she interacts with her patrons.  I love that she is a problem-solver, without judgment.  The wolf is so upset by her story and tells the librarian "' Something very sad happened in my story and I can't read it any more.'"  But the librarian leads the wolf over to a storytelling area, and the read the story together, supporting the wolf until she smiles.  Finally, and what I love most about this story, is that the librarian is a valued and loved member of her community.  This Midnight Library is a community space, where everyone shares their activities and their interests together.  They trust her to be there for all the animals, and to meet them where they are.  The young librarian doesn't yell at the tortoise for trying to finish the long book, she gives him a library card.  She is patient with the noisy squirrels, crying wolf and slow-moving tortoise.  Each of these patrons has very different needs, and she is able to fulfill all of them.

Though the plot of this story is wonderful, I have to admit that it's the illustrations that really do me in.  First of all, the pages are a lovely muted orange - a very unusual choice for a picture book.  But because Kohara uses linocuts for her illustrations, the color choice works very well.  The linocuts involve a lot of heavy dark lines and print, and the orange just stands out perfectly.  And to add to the contrast, Kohara uses a deep blue as an accent.  It helps create the feeling of midnight, and it also makes The Midnight Library feel very charming, cozy and friendly.

The characters in the book are so endearing and warm too.  Because of the linocut technique, they are created with very few lines, but you realize there doesn't need to be a lot of detail to add personality.  The tortoise, eyes almost closed with the effort of reading, weights his page down with his flipper.  Behind him, the owl assistants ring the bell to close the library.  And speaking of the owls!  They are my very favorite part of the book.  The owl assistants are there on every page, hovering over the librarian, stamping and shelving books.  They really are the cutest!!!

I quite often buy children's books about libraries for my own collection.  The Midnight Library is one that I cannot pass up! Celebrate reading with this darling librarian and her wise assistants.

The Midnight Librarian. Kazuno Kohara.  Roaring Brook Press, 2014.

borrowed from the Lewis & Clark Library